


What Friends Are For

by Lemony_Snicket (orphan_account)



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-10-20 14:42:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17624354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Lemony_Snicket
Summary: Dear reader,The word friend is a word which, according to the dictionary, means 'a person whom one knows and with whom one has a bond of mutual affection'.However, over the course of this story, you will also learn the suffering and blight of the Baudelaires and Quagmires. In an alternate time where they never got seperated, and their story was both worse and more pleasant.The word avoid is a word which, according to me, means 'you should close Archive of Our Own and not read this awful work, or any other works with its heading, and perhaps read something like this,a story about cute girls that is in no way horrifying.With all due respect,Lemony SnicketIn which the Baudelaires and Quagmires are never separated.





	What Friends Are For

**Author's Note:**

> To Beatrice-
> 
> Despite all the countless worlds out there, they are pointless without you.

In chaos theory, the butterfly effect is the idea of which a small change can result in large differences at a later time. In layman’s terms, this means any small effect will ripple outwards, having untold effects. The name for this effect comes from the idea that a butterfly flapping its wings could swirl and swirl, until it turns into a tornado, a force of chaos.

You are likely familiar with a version of my manuscript that involves the Baudelaires being alone in their running exercises, the Quagmires filling in for them, and being kidnapped.

But that’s not how this story goes.

“As anyone who has been to junior college knows,” ‘Coach Genghis’ rambled, rambled being a word here meaning ‘kept constantly spouting nonsense’, “Orphans tend to have unsound bodies, which leads to paranoia, delusion and untapped wealth.” The Baudelaires and Quagmires rolled their eyes. _How can no one see through his disguises?_

“That's why I have developed the Special Orphans Running Exercises, or S.O.R.E. for short, which I will be offering to a few select students. Will the orphans in the house please stand?”

Violet, Klaus and Sunny simply glared at Count Olaf, while they saw their friends Isadora and Duncan stand up. Then, to their surprise, Olivia Caliban, the librarian.

“Okay, okay.” Coach Genghis said slowly.

“I choose you,” he said pointing to Violet.

“And oh, you.” He said, pointing at Klaus. “And little baby secretary I've heard so much about.”

“What about those twins standing up?” Vice Principal Nero interjected helpfully. Helpfully is a word meaning ‘at the expense of the Quagmire triplets’. Sadly and gratefully, this was the line that created a twisted butterfly effect, changing the rules of their miserable life as we know it.

“Them too I suppose.” Coach Genghis said, his eyes gleaming. “The five of you will report to the athletics field at sundown and every night until further notice.”

“This does not excuse you from missing my nightly violin recital. You're going to owe me a lot of candy.” Nero added gleefully.

“That's the sort of leadership I was talking about. You, sir, are truly a genius.” Genghis said.

“You're a genius for noticing.” Nero replied.

“You're the genius for saying so.” Olaf replied back.

“You're a genius for agreeing.” Nero replied to the reply.

“All right, I'm the genius.” Olaf decided, smirking.

“Drat!” Nero exclaimed, defeated. “Everybody is dismissed! This pep rally is over.”

“Whatever you're up to, Count Olaf, we will put a stop to it.”

“Really?” Olaf asked sarcastically. “Because it seems to me if you had the skills to stop me, we wouldn't be having this chapter in your new lives. Oh, orphans, your parents really taught you nothing at all.”

“They taught us to survive.” Klaus said.

“Well, I guess those who can't do, teach.” Olaf laughed, a cruel vile laugh. “See you at sundown.”

And as Count Olaf left, chuckling, the Baudelaires and Quagmires made eye contact, and things were looking very unfortunate indeed.

“Everytime.” Klaus sighed exasperatedly, a word here meaning ‘fed up with being hunted by Count Olaf time and time again’. “Everytime he follows us, just to steal our fortune.”

“I can’t believe he fooled everyone again.” Violet sighed.

“Not everyone.” Said a voice from behind them. Violet, Klaus, and Sunny turned to face Duncan, who was catching up, and his sister Isadora, who was just a step behind.

“Don't worry, Baudelaires. Don't feel disgrace. The Quagmire triplets are on the case.” Isadora recited, a small smile on her face.

“You're kind and generous, but we can't let you get involved.” Violet said, worried.

“Thanks to Vice Principal Nero, we’re involved regardless. Besides, from what you’ve us, he's too dangerous for you to face alone.” Duncan pointed out.

“We can run away. All of us. Our parents own the famous Quagmire Sapphires, so when we come of age, we can live on our own.” Isadora offered.

“We're not of age yet. Besides, we tried running away and ended up working in a lumber mill.”

Count Olaf still found us there.” Klaus pointed out in response, pulling out the picture of his parents in Paltryville. Isadora and Duncan saw the photograph and gasped.

“That's a picture of our parents.” Isadora said slowly.

“Our parents, too.” Violet replied. “They did know each other.”

“We had this photo in our library. We never paid attention to it.” Duncan said, thinking back. “I bet there were other mysteries we never noticed.”

“Like a spyglass. Or a book.” Klaus said. “We need to survive long enough to find it. The librarian said to check back in a day or so.”

“We don't have a day or so.” Violet said exasperatedly. “It's almost sundown.”

The phrase ‘speak of the devil’ does not have to mean you are currently talking about a fallen angel who punishes the wicked, although depending on your topic it might. The phrase ‘speak of the devil’ means that something you were just talking about comes to be. If I was talking about recent studies on lightning, and suddenly a freak storm appeared, ‘speak of the devil’ would be applicable.

Sadly, the phrase ‘speak of the devil’ applied to the Baudelaire and Quagmire children as they heard a knock on the door to the Orphan Shack. The door was opened, revealing none other than Carmelita Spats.

“I'm here to deliver a special message to the Baudelaires. Oh, and the twins.” She added, gleeful she didn’t have to walk as far to tell the Quagmires the same thing.

“The sun is setting, hooray hooray! Coach Genghis sent me here to say! For you orphans to go to the field! And my name is Carmelita!” Carmelita said, her voice rather high-pitched and unlikable, akin to that of a dying cat, or perhaps a cat that wishes to be dead.

“That doesn't rhyme.” Isadora interjected.

"Only cake-sniffers care about poetic form.” Carmelita pouted, slamming the door and storming off.

 Klaus sighed exasperatedly. “Well, might as well head to the field.”

* * *

The five children had just stepped out into the field when a sharp whistle came from the other end.

“Punctuation, orphans.” Olaf said, as Coach Genghis. “Punctuation.”

“Punctuation?” Duncan asked quizzically. “What does punctuation have to do with anything?”

“The art of arriving not late.” Olaf drawled, smirking.

“That's punctuality. You said to be here at sundown. We're not late.” Klaus said, annoyed with this tedious disguise.

“That's curious. Someone just referred to you as the late Baudelaires.” Olaf mused, as though seriously befuddled by the wording. “Oh! Maybe they were talking about your parents…” He drawled, causing all five children to look at Olaf with anger. _Did he really just say that?_ Duncan thought. _They had to live with him?_

“That reminds me of a story that I'm gonna tell you.” Olaf drawled with a very bored tone. “Some years ago, two sets of wealthy children came to me, needing my help. ‘Coach Genghis,’ they all said to me, ‘we're failures. The rest of our family has abandoned us for brand-new lives as burnt-up skeletons.’” Olaf mocked, and Violet’s hand moved for Isadora’s shoulders, who had just tensed like she was going to fight the Count. “We have nothing in our lives but all these bags of money, and they're making us failures who read books and stuff.’ And do you know what I told them?

“Ooh! I know this one.” Nero said proudly. “Did you tell them to stand up?”

“They were already standing.” Olaf said, accent slipping a little. Which was reasonable, Nero got annoying quickly.

“To actualize and incentivize?” Nero asked, still proud.

“That doesn't mean anything.” Olaf said, accent gone, before reverting back to Coach Genghis. “I told them to put on some very expensive running shoes and then to take this bucket of luminous paint, ‘luminous’ is a word I invented for things that glow in the dark.” Olaf said, even though he did not invent luminous.

“We know what ‘luminous’ means.” muttered all four children.

“And then they are to drag this bucket around and around until they have made a luminous circle on the ground.”

Silence deafened the field, which is a metaphor, as I highly doubt anyone went deaf from lack of sound.

“That's it?” Nero asked.

“Yes, that's my exercise program. Genius ideas are simple, like the wheel or neurosurgery.” Said Olaf, even though neurosurgery is not simple. “The orphans will run around and around and around in a circle to exercise their mother- and father-less legs.”

“Um, okay, but what are you going to tell the orphans right here to do?” Nero asked.

“What am I- It's the same…”

“What's the same?”

“Isn't it time for your little light to shine?” Olaf said, accent slipped once more.

“Oh, I need a few minutes to rosin my bow.” Nero exclaimed, running off.

“Whatever you're up to, Olaf, we will-” Klaus started, but was cut off by a sharp whistle.

“Get running, orphans.” Olaf drawled in his normal voice. “Run for your lives.” He said, chuckling.

* * *

 

This went on for hours.

“Keep running, orphans.” Olaf yelled to the children.

“Why are we running in circles? How does that help Olaf steal our fortune?” Violet asked.

“I don't know. Something else has to happen.” Klaus said.

“There's no way he'll make us run laps all night.” Duncan pointed out. _Surely Olaf needed to let us sleep before school, right? Or else our grades would slip..._

_Wait._

The hook-handed man walked over to Olaf. “I brought you a quintuple macchiato so you can make them run all night. You want me to keep you company? I know I get lonely sometimes.” He suggested helpfully, looking up to his ‘adopted’ father who didn’t love him back.

“Why don't you check out the concert?”

“Oh. Okay.” The hook-handed man said, sadly.

Duncan sprinted up to Isadora, before muttering just loud enough for her to hear, “I figured it out. I’ll tell you when we get done running.”

Isadora nodded grimly. She had a feeling she already knew. “These are dark days.”

That night was indeed a dark day. All nights are dark days, because night is simply a badly-lit version of day. But a dark day also refers to a time when something terrible is going on. It was a dark day for Count Olaf's troupe, who were not good enough actors to pretend to be awake. It was a dark day in the history of music, as Vice Principal Nero, who could not play violin, insisted for several hours on doing so anyway. And it was a dark day for the faculty, including Mr. Remora, who was developing a sore on his lip, and Mrs. Bass, who would be arrested shortly for bank robbery. Not to mention the school librarian, whose own fate would be even worse.

But, of course, the night was the darkest day for the Baudelaires and Quagmire children, as they ran lap after lap after lap after lap over the whole course of the night, knowing nothing for certain of Count Olaf's plan. Nothing of how they could defeat his treachery. Nothing but their own desperate exhaustion, acute boredom, and the terrifying knowledge that always approaching was another dark day, a phrase which here means ‘more time at school’.

The sun was just rising above the horizon when Olaf blew his whistle one final time.

“Okay, orphans! That’s all the running I’m going to have you do tonight.” He drawled, but in his normal voice. “You wouldn’t make your parents proud.” He added, almost as an afterthought, but the look on his face suggested he had wanted to say if for several hours.

Duncan balled his hands into fists. _How much trouble would I get in for punching him?_

Isadora held back her brother, before he could hit Olaf. _He would get into so much trouble._

“Report back to this very field tonight, orphans. Now, run along, I’ll see you later…”

The Quagmires followed the Baudelaires to the Orphan Shack, laying out what they believed Olaf’s plan.

“So, me and Izzy think… God, hold on, I need to sit.” Duncan started, before lying down on a hay bale next to his sister. “Okay… If Olaf tires us out enough, we can’t focus on class. Our grades would slip...”

“Why would poor grades matter?” Violet asked, although as she asked the question she realized why.

“If we do poorly enough, Nero will give us to ‘Coach Genghis’ for homeschooling.” Isadora said, and the five children all saw their predicament.

“What can we do?” Klaus asked, putting down a sleeping Sunny. She had passed out not two steps in the Shack. _She’s so young, she shouldn’t be doing this._

And with that question, silence deafened.

* * *

 

This went on for quite some time. Night after night after night, the five children were forced to run laps on countless end, which, much to the expected guess, resulted in poor class work. Violet and Duncan couldn’t focus on a single detail from any of Mr. Remora’s lousy stories, lousy being a word which here means ‘unimportant and boring’. Klaus and Isadora couldn’t focus on the lousy measurements in Mrs. Bass’ class, and Sunny couldn’t focus on her duties as secretary for the lousy Vice Principal Nero. Each night, the children felt more and more exhausted.

“You must be on your last leg.” Duncan said, to no one in particular. Everyone in their group felt awful.

“I haven't been this exhausted since I stayed up all night with my first Tesla coil.” Violet said. “At least that was something of choice, and it was only once.”

“At least you weren't late to class. Me and Klaus were.” Isadora said.

“I've never flunked a test, but I got every measurement wrong.”

“Of course we flunked.” Isadora said. “Olaf has been making us run laps every night.”

“We need to find The Incomplete History Of Secret Organizations.” Duncan said.

“Cake-sniffers talking about a book. Is there anything less adorable?”

“Go away, Carmelita. We're not in the mood.” Violet groaned.

“But I'm here to deliver a special message to the Baudelaires and Quagmires.” She said with a false pleasant tone.

“Nero wants to see you right away, Because he's mad at you today, I'm the cutest girl in town!” Carmelita sang, “And my name is Carmelita!”

“It doesn't rhyme.” Violet, Klaus, Duncan, and Isadora all said in sync.

“Cake-sniffers are all jealous of me, Because I'm C-U-T-T-E, Dancing and singing is my thing! And my name is Carmeli-”

“None of this rhymes! Songs have to rhyme.” Isadora said slowly, as if talking for a four-year old.

“There's 12 more verses!” Carmelita whined.

"We get the message.” Klaus groaned.

“Bye, cakesniffers.” Carmelita said as they walked away.

* * *

 

Vice Principal Nero and Count Olaf were both sitting in the office, chatting. Nero looked at the children, as if he wanted to drown them. Olaf looked at the children, wanting to drown them.   

“Coach Genghis tells me that even after running laps for nine hours, you remain out of shape and winded.” Vice Principal Nero said sternly. “Your teachers say you've flunked quizzes in personal anecdotes and measuring random objects. And finally, don't even get me started on Sunny's employee evaluation. I couldn't be more disgusted if I'd written it myself.”

“You did write it yourself.” Klaus said.

"’You did write it yourself.’” Nero said condescendingly, a word which here means ‘in a mocking tone, as though the Baudelaires and Quagmires were all two years old’. Luckily, your new gym teacher has a solution. Jim.”

“Let me tell you a story.” Olaf said, and all five children groaned. “Some years ago, five wealthy children came to me. ‘Coach Genghis’, they said, ‘We’re failures. We’re failing all our classes, and our endless bags of money and sapphires are useless for education’. They were disgraces, people worthy of their dead mother and father.”

Duncan took a step, but Violet and Isadora held him back.

“And so, do you know. What. I. Said?” He drawled out, glaringly menacingly.

“Homeschooling.” He finished.

“Homeschooling means staying at home, sitting at your kitchen table, instead of clogging up a classroom.” Nero said helpfully, a word which you know does not mean he was very helpful.

“We know what homeschooling, but, Vice Principal Nero, Mr. Poe specifically placed us at Prufrock. He wants us to stay here at least a trimester.” Violet pointed out.

“Keep your grades up, or I'll toss you three out on your ears.” Nero said. “Tomorrow morning, your teachers will give you four more-or-less comprehensive exams in front of the whole school. And for Sunny, a professional reappraisal featuring a special sequence of demeaning menial tasks.”

“If you fail, it's off to Coach Genghis' Ultra-Dynamic Life-Ending Workshop.” Olaf said, smirking.

“We’re going to pass. If you'll excuse us, we're going to study in our shack and closet...” Isadora said politely, although she wanted nothing more than to hurt Olaf, or perhaps Nero.

“You don't have much time. You're due at the athletic field for Special Orphan Running Exercises in a matter of hours.”

“We still have to run laps?” Isadora cried out in frustration.

“Of course. And it doesn't mean you'll be excused from the violin recital. Looks like more candy for me.” Nero said gleefully.

“We can't study for comprehensive exams and run laps all night. We'd have to be two places at once.”

“Consider this a learning experience, orphans.” Olaf drawled, as he pushed the five children to the door.

“And what experience might that be?” Duncan asked, ticked off, a phrase here meaning ‘furious’.

“That in this dark, cruel world, nothing you do matters.” Olaf said in his normal voice, a low growl, before slamming the door shut.

And as it pains me to say it, I fear that Count Olaf was right.


End file.
